Modern Love
by 0Bitter0Sweet0
Summary: PG-13 for future chapters. This is a modern form of the Phantom of the Opera, which, infact, was a true story! Come R&R, please! My first fanfic of Phantom!
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I do not own the music, but all of the characters of mine. The replica of Erik isn't the real Phantom. He is a new, un-born character from my mind.

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"In sleep he sang to me,

in dreams he came.

That voice which calls to me,

and speaks my name.

And do I dreama again,

for now I find,

the Phantom of the Opera is there,

inside my mind."

Bridget's beautiful voice rang out among the crowd, and she entered on left stage singing, just as Thomas entered right stage, carrying on his song.

"Sing once again with me,

our strange duet.

My power over you,

grows stronger yet.

And though you turn from me,

to glance behind,

the Phantom of the Opera is there,

inside your mind."

The couple sang through more of the song together, their chorus teacher's favorite girl and boy, voted best actors/singers in their school.

"Those who have seen your face,

Draw back in fear.

I am the mask you wear."

"It's me they hear."

And together they sang, finishing just about the best song from the best show. But they were not, no not, on broadway. It was just a school show, and they were only practicing. As the song finished, and Bridget sang the last, the highest chord of the song, she pretended to faint into Thomas's arms. The curtains then, on the night of the show would close, and they would rush off stage while the crowd applauded their spectacular performance, while the stage crew set up the Phantom's Lair.

They would prepare themselves by drinking water, and spraying their throats with a liquid that helps vocal chords work their magick. That's what they would do, while I sit in my world. My world in the darkness, in the cold, were the world is black, and hearts are cold, and no one ever sees the little people, like me. I have a singing voice too, I just am not the replica of the true christine Daae, and so, I could not sing for the show.

No, I am very short and small, sickly looking, with spiky red hair and skin pale as the petals of the daisies, with eyes so dark blue they look no other color than black. And here stands Bridget, more comonly called Birdie, with her long spiral curls, the color of a robbin's back, honey eyes, fair peachy skin, the perfect size and shape. A replica of beauty.

"Wonderful, Birdie! Wonderful, magnificiant! Out of my way, Mira." I jumped to the side as my chorus teacher crashed by me to get to his 'stars'. I fell into a seat beside my friend, Rebecca.

"Come on, Mira, glaring won't do you any good," she said, finishing up some of her eyeliner. I glanced over at her. Rebecca was such a beautiful person, inside and out. She was a little short and chubby, but she had the nicest features, a beautiful complexion, curly black hair, and spicy emerald eyes.

"Easy for you to say, no one has anything against you," I say groggily.

"Then again, they have nothing for me either. And besides, no one has anything against you! You're being silly."

I give her a disbelieving look and then roll my eyes, looking back to the stage, where I wish I was. I always knew that I was born to act, and to sing, which is why I do, but I just want to be seen. There they are, Birdie and Tomie, the cutest couple. And there he is, Mr. Amondilato, the chorus teacher. He asked her to sing 'Think of Me', my favorite song from 'The Phantom Of The Opera'.

"Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

when we've said good-bye.

Remember me,

every so often,

promise me you'll try.

On that day,

that not so distant day,

when you are far away,

and free.

If you ever find a moment,

spare a thought for me.

Think of August,

when the trees were green.

Don't think about the way

things maight have been.

Think of me,

think of me waking,

silent and resigned.

Imagine me,

trying to hard to,

put you from my mind.

Think of me,

please say you'll think of me,

whatever else you choose to do.

There will never be,

a day when,

I won't think of you.

Flowers fade,

the fruits of summer fade,

the have their season,

so do we.

But please promise me,

that sometime,

you will think..."

And then came the scales in the word of, which I sang perfectly with my CD from the Broadway play.

"Of me!"

And the auditorium clapped aside from Becca and I, when the doors banged open. Everybody was silent, and turned to the back. When we saw what was there, we all gasped.

There stood a replica, another replica, how sweet, except this one was of the Phantom himself, of the one and only, Erik!

"I am your angel of music! Come to the angel of music!"

I heard his voice, and something overcame my self-control. As everybody else was transfixed, I stood and sang, beautifully, better than Birdie.

"Angel of music, speak, I listen.

Speak to me,

my angel."

Again, he sang, in that deep, mezmorizing voice.

"I am your angel of music! Come to the angel of music!"

I began to walk down tthe aisle between the chairs, sort of in a trance. Suddenly, Thomas began to sing as well.

"Mira! Mira! Angel!"

And suddenly bursts of music blasted from nowhere around us all, and I walked forth, Robert holding his hands wildly in front of him, silently calling me back, but I was in an un-breakable trance. Erik's trance.

"In sleep he sang to me,

In dreams he came.

That voice which calls to me,

And speaks my name.

And do I dream again,

for now I find,

The Phantom of the Opera,

is there, inside my mind."

His turn. I felt excitement, and yet I didn't know what was going on!

"Sing once again with me,

Our strange duet.

My power over you,

Grows stronger yet.

And though you turn from me,

To glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside your mind."

How odd, but quite perfectly, I knew that the Phantom before me was not Erik. It had to be another. The _real_ Christine Daae and the _real_ Phantom lived centuries ago! Not in the year 2005! I sang to him once more,

"Those who have seen your face,

draw back in fear.

I am the mask you wear."

Ah, he sang, his beautful voice.

"It's me they hear."

And together our voices mixed as if in a blender of beauty. We were like the true Erik and Christine. But I longed to know who it was, really!

"Your spirit and my voice,

in one combined,

the Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside my mind."

And he of course sang the oposite at the same time as me, which is exactly what a duet would be.

"My spirit and your voice,

in one combined.

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

inside your mind."

And again, his milky-soft voice beat against me. I found now that we were close enough for him to touch me, and he did, as he sang, his fingers caressed my cheek.

"In all your fantasies,

you always knew.

That man and mystery-"

I sang, now with a hint of love in my voice.

"-were both in you."

And together we sang, as I sang my, he sang your.

"And in this Labyrinth,

where night is blind,

the Phantom of the Opera is there,

inside my mind."

He spoke/sang, in the loveliest voice, in the most loving tones.

"Sing, my angel of music."

I did.

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera."

And through my scales, he had walked behind me, traced my cheekbone, and spoke softly, lovingly.

"Sing, my angel! Sing for me!"

And on that last note, that final E, I screamed, instead of sang, as he grabbed me and held my tightly, swung his cloak, and we disappeared.

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Please review and tell me what you think! I had to write this, and this was my first Phantom fanfic, so, please, tell me how this modern fantom is! 


	2. Chapter 1 In A Lair

I had blacked out, I hadn't known where we went, how we got there, or even when we got there. All I knew was that I awoke in a bed of satin, and I no longer wore jeans and a t-shirt, but I was drapped in cloths of the softest silk, black as the drapes that hung about my head, and on my feet were soft slippers, red as the rose that lay in my fingers.

Here I was in the Phantom's Lair. But how would I be able to have been transported to France in such a short timespan? It was in-humanly possible! Unless the Opera Ghost, the actual Phantom, was able to find me here in the United States and then bring me back to the Paris Opera. No, the actual Phantom, Erik, is dead, isn't he? Of course. But then, who is it beyond the mask? I wonder.

What I had wa concerned about at the moment was getting away. A lot of people would probably push away my disappearance, but then again, after I sang the way I did, and a new Erik, old Erik as a ghost? came for me, I believe that there will be those who will want to find me.

I stood up and grumbled unhappily at a pain in my chest. A cramp, perect. I spread the curtains, and found that what had awoken me was the soft playing of an organ. This was too freaky, and now I just wanted to wake up. I had drempt of something a lot like this many a time, but that was just a dream, and I could control what happened there, normally. But now this? It was simply insane.

The music ceased.

"You have awoken, my divine angel." My eyes widened, as the figure in the chair spun to see me. "Bravi, bravi. You were divine at your singing at the school. That damned Birdie, or whatever the hell her name was, will not sing again."

I caught my breath. "What did you do to her," I asked, my voice rising.

"Nothing! That will phisically harm her, at least." He stood and walked slowly across the floor, pausing at a boat. The lake...the organ...the set of dolls, except..._my_ head was there instead of Christine's. Bridget's, Thomas's. And the ballet dancers..Becca was there? She couldn't dance for her life. Then again, people can't go from America to Paris in a night. He walked forward still, finally reaching me. He reached out his hand to stroke my cheekbone. "Though you sang beautifully, like I said. She will be pushed to the bottom of the pole, and you shall be at the top. The best singer of them all. You will sing as Christine."

I was transfixed, and I couldn't move, though speaking I could manage. "Who are you? Not the true Erik, who had fallen in love with the real Christine Daae?" He chuckled softly and turned his back to me, I could move. I backed up.

"No...no...I am related though. And I was made a fool of as a child. Just because of...this." He pointed to his face. Apparently, he had an 'accident' as well. I wondered what had happened, and I wanted to ask, but when Christine removed Erik's mask, she got in trouble. Now, what would he do?

"What is your name?"

"All you need to know, is that I am the Angel of Music. Henceforth, you may call me, Angel."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, then," he said, turning and walking back to the Organ. "I suppose you should call me what you like."

He began to play a sweet tune on the organ that I couldn't help but listen to. It was very beautifull. I was transfixed, once again, and I wondered if I would be moving very much in this Lair. My eyes grew dreamy and far away at the song, I was being put in a trance. He called me to him, and I went to him, as he instructed.

"Angel I hear you,

Speak, I listen.

Grant to me your glory.

Angel of Music,

guide and guardian.

Enter at last,

Master."


	3. Chapter 1 cont

Thanks for the reviews **Anonymus 88** and **Phantomsangel102**!

**Anonymus 88 **- Don't worry, I'm trying to think of something else, but this is my first, so yeah...

**Phantomsangel102** - Captivating, eh? Thanks! I'm trying hard, but like I said, I can write better than this, and it's only my first..

Also, I had written more on the story for the first chapter, but it got deleted when I transfered the file. I'll finish that chapter here. Maybe it'll get more interesting..?

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His mouth opened and he let out a single note before we heard it. A gunshot above our heads. Farther, through the floor, of course, but it took me from my trance, and I stood up. He looked as surprised as I did, but I took this moment to turn around and kick off my slippers, running from the organ, and jumping over obstacles in my veiw. I opened a bag I found in the corner, my clothes! I could hear the angel choir singing!

I grabbed the bag. There was no time to change, for I heard the man behind scrambling after me. I ran, holding the bottom of my dress, and heading for the lake. I could swim...maybe...

And so I stopped at thr lake. But "Angel" was right there. I leaped for the boat, but he grabbed my ankle and I fell into the freezing water. My dress weighed me down, and shivers spread over my skin. My hair clung to my head, and I looked frightened back as "Angel" got gracefully into the boat. I swam fast, but that stopped all too soon, as my dress caught something underwater.

I pulled hard to get free, but the dress wouldn't give!

"I am your angel of music. Come to me, angel of music."

"Shut up!" I screamed, my voice echoing. I stuck my head underwater, but the water itself was so filthy that I couldn't see. I felt around for where my dress caught, and soon found it. It was on the hook of an old, broken statue.

I heard the muffled call of "Angel".

"I am your angel of music. Come to me, angel of music."

I closed my eyes, as they began to sting from the guck floating mid-drift. My hand got cut on the sharp point where my dress was, and my lungs, burning, felt as though they would soon explode. I exploded above the water, having fixed my dress right. Angel was close, and speeding in his boat.

I stroked quickly and fast, speeding in the water, as fast as I could, at least. My sopping dress held me back quite a bit, but I reached the edge of the Lake, and clambered out and away. At the stairs I saw the Angel was way behind. I climbed the stairs that I found, stepping only near the edges closer to the banister, so as not to fall into any traps. I nearly screamed when a part of the railing broke, but I soon enough reached the landing. Burting through the door I found, I stepped into...

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Well, tell me what you think! Thank'ees!

Aubrey Daniels


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